Question of Finality
by Witknee
Summary: AU Season 3. What if nothing had ever happened between Michelle and Tony, ever? This is the question I posed to myself and this fic is the outcome. Basically Season 3 with more of a twist:How would Tony and Michelle act in s3 if they weren't together?
1. Chapter 1

Question of Finality

Synopsis: What if Tony and Michelle had never gotten together, what if Mason had never given Michelle his speech that led to her asking Tony out? Well, I'm going to explore these options... nothing has ever happened between our favorite couple, they are not married, they have not gone on a single date... and they never even shared that INCREDIBLY HOT Tony/Michelle kiss in the dark hallways of CTU in that nuclear disaster! What did they do, you ask?... Well... maybe they,um.. played Old Maid? I have no idea. However, the sexual tension from season 2 is there... just.. add three years to it. Think of it as season 2 times A BILLION on the sexual tension train. They dance around each other, get WAY too close to each other.. they're best friends. I'll cover this in the fic, however... so it's best not to go into detail.

Timeline: We're basically set at the beginning of season 3, it's exactly the freakin same... save for T/M moments, which when you think about it was a HUGE part of season 3. So, it's not exactly the freakin same, it's actually really really different. I just hope I can do the two characters justice.

Author's notes: This is my first on going saga fic... I will need encouragement while doing this. Also, I will not be going into that much detail of the events surrounding all the terroristic stuff.. cause it's almost the same as the season 3 plot line, except for Tony and Michelle and how they act around and about each other.

"Your blood is a beacon, splattered on these pristinevirgin white walls.."

Chapter 1 "Beacon"

As she walked in the building, she felt trepidation creep and crawl into her stomach. As she waited at the double doors that would bring her into the facility, she relayed the day's events for herself in her head.

She had gotten out of bed unusually early, even for herself, around 4:30, her body restless and shaky for a reason unknown to herself. Out of habit, she'd reached to her night stand, switched on the light and had quietly padded over to where her jogging clothes sat and quietly but quickly put them on her exhausted body. First stretching in the privacy of her own home, she had set about her normal route, three miles that wound around her quiet and darkened neighborhood. She'd stepped back in only

twenty minutes later, winded, her chest moving rapidly up and down from the intensity of the run. Without thought, she had stepped into her shower, the temperature barely lukewarm to further stimulate her sweaty but tired form. Little time passed before she was showered up, dressed, and heading into the city for breakfast and coffee before heading off to work. She hated to cook, and figured it better to go and stuff herself with something fattening rather than run the risk of actually attempting to prepare something for herself that was in the least bit nutritional... and as a result burn herself and her apartment complex down to the ground. Fattening she could handle, she'd decided, third degree burns she could not.

The drive had been uneventful over to McClullen's Bakery. She had bought a cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee, the biggest that they carried. She had long ago told herself that she would stop consuming caffeine. That promise, however, came to her before she started to suffer from the onslaught of age... and before she had even begun work at CTU. The time before she had joined the Counter Terrorist Unit seemed a blur, it didn't even register to her sometimes that she had worked at Division before... Then again, a lot of things had happened at CTU that weren't exactly forgettable.

Four years ago, she had met her best friend, Tony Almeida.

Four years ago, she had seen him for the first time, still slightly aloof from being involved with a woman who had betrayed everyone she had ever come in contact with, including the government that she worked for and had sworn to protect.

Four years ago, she had smiled at him as her introduced her to the staff and proceeded to show her the ropes of how to work their new software.

Four years ago, she had looked at him with respect, and something akin to affection.

Three and a half years ago, she'd realized that she had fallen in love with him.

Three years ago, they had been bombed and over half of the employees were killed. She still sometimes replays those images in her head and whenever she does, more often than not, she shivers and cringes inwardly at the unsettling feelings that pass through her bod.

Three years ago, on the day of the bombing, in the midst of chaos and confusion and blood and death and horror, she had thought that she had seen Tony on the floor underneath overturned structures, bloody and dying. She had begun to cry then, and had closed her eyes, relishing in the love that she had for the man, her best friend, who she often went out to coffee with after work to simply talk and unwind after the day's usually stressful events. She had made a plea to the God that she never talked to in those moments, asked Him to spare Tony, to give him life in exchange for her own, prayed to Him that if he would be spared, that she would let go of her selfish, silly feelings of devotion. It would be s mall price to pay, she had thought, because Tony had never paid any romantic attention to her anyway... The prayers flooded through her mind rampantly as she whispered and sobbed Tony's name.

'I swear,' she had thought to herself in those moments of hell and confusion, 'That if you save him, I'll let him go. Just please, let him live."

Tears running freely down her face, she reached out to touch the man, her Tony.

And suddenly, she had heard a voice. Turning in one fluid motion, she had see him then, alive, awake, so FUCKING alive, and her heart had rejoiced. And then deflated. She had looked up at the sky, had remembered her promise. Had remembered the pretenses of their agreement. Tears still flowing from her face, she had closed her eyes in disgust and shame and disbelief. She had felt ridiculous and foolish... after all, God hadn't done this! God didn't... He couldn't...

With a final hitch to her breath, she had screamed his name, run to him, taken his order.

Three years ago, Michelle Dessler had made a promise to a God that she didn't believe in, said things in the midst of chaos and confusion that she still paid for and would always pay for, as far as she was concerned.

Today, three years later, she enters the same building that she has for as long as she can remember, because CTU holds almost all of her adult memories... and childhood has very little to do with her work.

Today, three years later, Michelle Dessler walks over to her work station, sets down her things, and prepares for another long, tension filled day full of terrorism and reality.

Today, three years later, Michelle Dessler sits down and immediately looks up from her work station to the glass office that holds her life, that holds the person that she has loved and longed and lusted for for four years.

Today, three years later, Michelle Dessler sees him coming down the stairs, with a smile on his features as he approaches her.

Today three years later, Michelle Dessler matches his smirk with one of her own but inwardly prepares herself for another day of pretending not to feel things for the man that she so strongly feels, and feels the all too familiar tightening of her chest as he speaks her name in the way that he always does, places his hand on her wrist in such a way that immediately brings him into focus.

Today, three years later, Stephen Saunders has a plan that will bring the United States and Tony Almeida to their knees.

Today, three years later, Jack Bauer and Tony Almeida have a plan that will hopefully put an end to any kind of threat of disease by way of a terrorist.

Today, three years later, Michelle Dessler thinks about that fateful day three years ago when she made a promise that she tells herself she doesn't believe in.

Still today, however, Michelle Dessler keeps that promise.


	2. Chapter 2

Question of Finality

Chapter 2, "Arrow"

"Only love is like an arrow to your heart; the more you try to take it out, the more pain and blood you get"

-

-

-

He came down to her station almost immediately, his focus solely and primarily on her. The sexual tension and attraction that lay between them crackled and sparked, and both of them did their best not to notice.

Both of them did their best not to notice the way that their skin inflamed whenever a part of them touched, the way that their breath and heartbeat quickened whenever their glances had met for a socially unacceptable amount of time.

Both of them tried so hard not to notice that they knew so much about each other, that they thought the same thoughts, that they had the same mannerisms...

Both of them tried not to notice that every night they went to sleep with each other's faces in their mind's eye, woke up with each other's names on their lips.

Both of them desperately tried not to notice the longing in each others eyes for fear of falling in, or rather, falling deeper than they already had.

He spoke to her quickly, with a small smile like he always did, and told her of recent events and brought her up to speed on all the matters at hand. In the middle of his speech, his cell phone rang and with a look of apology, he turned, put it up to his ear and answered it with his usual greeting.

The business- like demeanor immediately softened and his tone turned friendly.With a stab to her stomach, Michelle realized that it was probably a girl. Friend. More than a friend, actually, probably... More than likely. Yeah, Tony had a friend. Who was a girl. Who was more than a friend.

She felt sick immediately and acted like she was doing her work, all the while the wheels worked in her head, trying to sort out her bitter and hurt feelings. She rationalized with herself... Tony was her best friend, nothing more. She had no reason to feel jealous or hurt, she loved him.

In a totally friendly way, and NOTHING MORE.

She kept repeating that mantra in her head. It did nothing to soothe or alleviate her hurt or frustration. It was a bold faced lie and she knew it, she knew exactly what she felt- she had only been feeling these particular fucking feelings for four years!

The nagging in her head began to give it an annoying ache and she told herself that she was going to focus.

Focus.

Focus.

Focus.

Tony was still on the phone, his back turned and his voice low, his eyes darting back and forth, but his trademark smirk still planted firmly on his face. He finished the conversation abruptly, looked to Michelle. She pretended to still be working, tried not to see him look at her with his brow furrowed for a moment before finishing his earlier sentiments and ideas about the day's activities. She pretended to be interested, took his information in, put it to short term memory and then watched him with a sigh as he walked up the concrete stairs with a new found swagger in his step.

Michelle watched him sadly, the tears already welling in her eyes at the thought of someone making Tony that happy... that someone that wasn't herself. In that moment, she hated herself, hated the selfish thoughts that consumed and patronized her. It was her fault that she couldn't touch him, couldn't feel him , kiss him. All because she was so fucking superstitious and foolish to believe in a stupid promise that she had made to a God that she wasn't even sure existed in a moment of panic and sheer desperation.

She had realized a long time ago, however, that the suspicion and superstition was what kept her from going after him. She was afraid that if she didn't stick to her promise, Tony would be taken from her...that she would never see him again, and it would be her fault, that she had killed him. She knew that a life without Tony was far worse than a life where she just had Tony as her friend, as a person that she depended on and respected. She could never allow her own selfish motivations get in the way of his life, as juvenile and silly as it seemed that she could be basing the whole basis of her life on one deal with... God. She didn't even want to think about it anymore!

Her inner ramblings were interrupted by the phone ringing at her desk. With a sigh at the annoying and all too familiar sound, she answered it, breathing only her last name in greeting. Tony was on the other end. She felt her heart clench in her chest in a combination of pain and anticipation. She hated the feeling because it always had her in its grasp. H asked her to come to his office and she told him yes quickly before hanging up and making her way towards her destination.

She made the familiar trip in silence, her mood already not at its finest. She didn't dislike her job, quite the opposite really, she just always became flustered and frustrated with herself. More often than not, it was because of Tony. No matter how much she tried to shake the feelings she had for him off, they didn't seem to budge, didn't seem to slip in the slightest. She hated that she loved him so much, that he had such a profound impact on her life and the way that she lived it.

She reached his door, took a breath and pushed through to the other side. There Tony sat, the grin from earlier still plastered on his face. She wanted to hit him, wanted to scream at him, but she found herself smiling back instead involuntarily, the corners of her mouth acting upon their own authority, like she always did. She could never stay mad at him for too long... he always ended up making her laugh or hugging her... it always made up for everything.

He skipped pleasantries and cut straight to the point. The news nearly knocked her to the floor.

"I just got off the phone with Walt from Langley, Michelle," he said, " and they want me."

She stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, gaping at him like the idiot she felt like. Stunned silence filled the room and she could feel the clenching in her chest begin again, tighter this time, all the more painful. His brow furrowed at her expression and he reached out to touch her on the arm.

Jesus, why couldn't it have been a woman on the phone?

She never thought she'd hear herself think those thoughts, but she faced reality in that moment. A woman was a hell of a lot easier to compete with for his attention... she wouldn't even be in the picture if he were 3,000 miles away...

"Michelle," he repeated, "Did you hear me? I got it! I actually got it!" His face reflected the joy and pride he felt.

She forced herself to move then, put a smile on her face for the hundredth time already that day, and moved to him, kissing him on the cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck in a warm hug.

"Congratulations, Tony," she could hear herself whispering, "I'm so happy for you."

They stayed that way for a moment as he hugged her back. She closed her eyes, relished in the moment, one that they had shared thousands of times before. Rejoicing and hugging at good news, comforting each other in times of terror and isolation... She took a deep breath, took in his scent and felt herself getting lost in his embrace.

Tony was the first to pull away, his arms extended, still on Michelle's waist. She looked at him, caught his eyes. He knew something was off.

"Michelle," he said, brushing a loose curl from her face, " What's wrong?"

He saw the conflict on her face and she tried to move her face from his line of sight. He put his hand under her chin and made her look at him.

"Langley is a long way away," she said quietly, moving her eyes down, and finally processing the information. Langley was in Washington D.C., at the other end of the country. When he had been talking, the soothing tone he had been speaking to her had nearly been her undoing.

His heart had dropped then, his pulse quickened as he heard her response. Did she... what exactly was she saying? Ignoring the urge to ask the question that was on his tongue, he merely nodded, urged her in his actions to continue.

She looked at him then, her deep brown eyes focusing in on his own. Her lips moved and she felt the urge to confess to him what she felt, about how much she loved him. She felt a tiny semblence of truth spill from her lips.

"I'll miss you," she whispered, her eyes still locked in his.

He tilted his head back, trying to decipher what she meant. God, could she... Did she...? His confusion showed on his face and he felt Michelle sigh and begin to back out of his embrace. He held onto her tighter, however, and caught her attention, putting his palm against her cheek.

"Michelle," he said calmly, a look of confusion and conflict now present on his on features, " What... what are you saying here?"

She couldn't meet his eyes, felt moisture already rising in her own, but he made her. His hand felt warm against her cheek and as he put it there, she closed her eyes, allowing tears to drop onto his hand.

Words escaped her for long moments as she struggled to find the words, struggled to find breath. They were silent, and had unconsciously moved closer to one another. Her eyes still closed, she felt Tony whisper her name.

She opened them again, saw that he was alarmingly close, his loose arm wrapped tightly around her waist still.

"I..." he said, his voice halting, his mouth open as if he wanted desperately to say something that obviously meant something important.

She stood with bated breath, unconsciously moved her eyes to his lips. She could feel his breath grow ragged and shallow, begin to mingle with her own as he tried to spit his words out, tried to tell her what he wanted. The hand on her cheek moved down, slid to her neck, where his thumb moved in circles. Her stomach knotted and she knew even now what she was doing was against the rules.

And God help her, she didn't care.

When they fell silent again, she found her voice.

"You what?" she breathed, surprised at the strength and vitality of her own voice.

He moved his face mere centimeters from her own, brushed her lips with his thumb. Looked to her eyes once more and felt her weave her arms somewhat hesitantly around his neck. He closed his eyes, hoped she would do the same.

Behind them, the phone rang.

They jumped apart, startled and slightly unaware of their surroundings. Tony shot her a look of longing before going straight to the phone. Jack was on the other end, telling him that he needed him in the field to find the target, a young and probably stupid nineteen year old kid. He told him to give him a few minutes, but Jack, some what irritable, demanded that he meet him downstairs at that moment. As he got off the phone with a scowl on his face, he looked at her, standing awkwardly in the center of the room, cheeks still flushed. He told her what he was to do, put her in charge as he gathered his jacket and cell phone.

Michelle merely nodded, still somewhat in a daze from their near encounter. As he walked by her, he put his hand on her cheek, looked into her eyes, promised to talk when they got back. She gave him a weak smile and nodded dumbly, swallowed the lump in her throat. With one last look, he was gone, out the door and down the stairs.

After he left, she sat herself down in his seat, called all the analysts to tell them that she was in charge for the time being. After that was done, she sat at his chair, put her head in her hands, wondering only where all of her control had gone. She didn't know what she'd do if anything happened to Tony because of her weakness and inability to keep her mouth shut. She looked towards the sky, waiting for some type of recognition or sign. She was only faced with silence.

-

-

-

Tony made it to the mall in a short amount of time, located the target easily. He called his name, asked him nicely to come back to CTU so they could help him.

He never saw the man with the gun behind him. But he felt the bullet enter his neck, and saw the images of Michelle flash through his head as he clutched at the blood that was now flowing through his clasped fingers.

-

-

-

The news hit CTU fast. Kim yelled to her as soon as she heard about the gunshots, and saw the look of panic hit her face when she was explaining the situation.

"Michelle!" Kim yelled, " Gunshots were fired at the Mall! Either Tony or Jack were hit!"

The call to confirm her horrible suspicions came only moments later and she felt the bile rising in the back of her throat as Jack spoke to her, apologized and told her that her "best friend" was going to be alright. That he needed her to focus, to be the leader that he knew she was. She agreed in a halting and grief stricken voice. Jack thanked her as the line disconnected.

At Kim's look of pity, Michelle snapped at her, ordered data and figures, felt guilt bubbling to the surface of her calm and hard facade. Chloe requested data, Adam argued. Michelle went upstairs.

As her co-workers looked on, Michelle made it to Tony Almeida's office before crumpling into his floor, tears finally spilling forth onto her face. She felt the sobs rise and crest for a few moments before she maintained control, realized the show she was giving and stood up, brushing herself off for effect. She made it to the computer before she looked up to the sky once again and apologized for her transgressions.

Even with her intense denial over the actions she had taken those three years ago, she could not deny the feelings of fear and disbelief over the events that had transpired only minutes ago.

She apologized over and over again, looking to the ceiling for relief, once again for some type of answer. When she was met with silence once again, she hung her head in shame, fear and guilt.

Her love, her actions.. they'd hurt him.

She had hurt him.

And now, she may as well have killed him.

The grief overwhelmed her, but she quelled it, only hoping for a miracle and Tony's quick and speedy recovery.


	3. Chapter 3

Question of Finality

Chapter 3, "Anguish"

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who has left me feedback- your comments have all been really nice and very well appreciated... I hope that everyone is liking the story... I think at this point, it's really going to spin off and become very much "my season 3"..I want to keep the basic plot line, but there will also be some things that happen that, well, didn't. Hope you like the outcome when it's all said and done :). -Wit

"Ideologies separate us. Dreams and **anguish** bring us together."-Eugene Ionesco

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The knowledge that she had, that she was responsible for Tony's condition nearly made her knees buckle in grief. She hated herself in this moment, closed her eyes and saw blood, saw Tony clutching at his neck in pain, heard him cursing her name as he died. Her breath became shallow as she pictured the man she had been hugging mere moments ago falling to the ground, covered in his own blood, dying all alone,without her or anyone else by his side, helpless as people scrambled around him trying to leave with only their own lives in tact, not caring about the person not ten feet away from them, bleeding out.

Anger entered her tears, also in these moments, and she knew she was unnecessarily angry at the innocent bystanders at the mall. She saw them, also, scared, looking down on his blood soaked skin and screaming...

She muffled the guilty and bitter sob that rose within her with her hand, choked on it, forgot for a moment to breathe, and then once she had her mistake realized, she put all of her focus on this activity.

Breathe in, breathe out, she willed within herself.

In.

-Tony-

Out.

-God, I'm so sorry, Tony...-

In.

-This is all my fault.-

Out.

-If he dies...his blood will be on your hands-

In.

-You love him-

Out.

-That love will kill him.-

In.

-Your selfishness has already cost him so much.-

Out.

-You will never be enough for him.-

In.

-He will never love you... he can't.-

Out.

-I love him. I FUCKING LOVE HIM.-

In.

But he can never know.

In.

-

In.

-

In.

-

Before she knew it, her breath was hitching, her shoulders shaking. She felt the wail rip from her throat, just like she felt the concrete floor rush up to meet her. But she never heard the anguish in her cries.

-

-

-

At her cry, Jack, who was back in the building to receive the next round of data and information, raced up the stairs and into Tony's office. He found her on the floor with her hands cradling her head, shuddering, her shoulders shaking with the force of her cries. He sighed and closed his eyes, felt something inside of him soften up. He knew he should feel angry or frustrated- she was the one who was supposed to be in charge, she couldn't show emotion or be side tracked by a simple, albeit strong, feeling.

Jack ,however, knew that Michelle did not do this often, that if she were in the right state of mind or emotion that she would be doing her job, no question. He understood, and in this moment of compassion, he crouched over her, touched her shoulder in an uncharacteristic act of comfort. She turned to look at him, mascara running in streaks on her face, her cheeks flushed from the onslaught of wet, heaving sobs.

He spoke softly to her, soothingly. Her face crinkled in grief further, more tears spilling onto her flushed cheeks. He brought her head to his chest, felt her breath and tears begin to settle onto his shirt. Felt her shake and talk to him, felt himself begin close his eyes.

She mumbled, pulled back. Looked into his eyes, opened her mouth to say something.

An apology was the first thing to tumble from her lips. He shook his head, told her it was alright, that he knew that her and Tony were close- that he was going to be okay. She closed her eyes at his empty promises.

"You don't know that!" she snapped, her mouth turning grim. His eyebrows jutted up in response. He had worked with Michelle for almost four years now, and he had never seen her act the least bit angry or upset. Both emotions by which she was portraying at the moment.

"You don't know that he's not going to die!" She yelled, now on her knees, her body hunched over, her breathing uneven. "You... God, Jack..." Her voice broke, and then sobs overtook her. He pulled her closer, trying to soothe her. But he didn't know how to act, didn't know how to make it better. The way she was acting, he would've thought that Tony were already dead. And she wasn't exactly acting as if her best friend were in the hospital, suffering from a bullet would, rather... that her life were over, that she... that Tony was her...

Wait.

The thought struck him quickly, stunned him. Were Tony and Michelle..?. He quelled the thought quickly, however. This particular thought was ridiculous... Tony and Michelle did everything together, they went out for coffee all the time, went out for drinks. They were inseparable. God, how many times had he offered Tony to go out for drinks for with, just to unwind after a long and stressful day after work? Every single time he had, he had been with the same response. Tony looked at him with a smile on his face, thanked him for the offer and then told him that he already had plans "that are set in stone" with Michelle. His friend, the person that he told everything to. Jack had only ever gotten him out once with him because Michelle had been on vacation. Jack had been relieved to go out with one of the guys from work, someone he worked with and trusted who was.. well, male. He loved his daughter but good God... the hormones were killing him.

He remembered the night vividly, even though he had ended up slightly drunk. The memories flooded him now as he held Michelle. He remembered how the more Tony drank, the more the person in question's name spilled from his lips, how much he'd bragged on her, how much affection was obvious in his tone when he spoke about her. He remembered when they were sober, how she had called him "just to tell him that she got in safely". He remembered the look on Tony's face when he saw the name come up on the caller I.D.

All of the males at CTU knew Michelle Dessler, knew what she looked like, knew that she was what they liked. She got hit on often enough. They all got turned down often enough- and then scowled at by the man who talked to her on a regular basis... but "had no feelings for her like that."

All of the females at CTU knew Tony Almeida, knew what he looked like, knew that he was what they liked. He got hit on all the time. They got turned down all the time- and then scowled at by the woman who went out with him on a regular basis but "had no feelings for him like that."

That smile on his face. The smile that came upon her face when he came in any room at work... The way she was acting in that moment...

Jesus.

It was so fucking obvious, why the hell hadn't he or anyone else seen it before? How blind was he?

Michelle Dessler and Tony Almeida were head over heels, over the fucking moon in love with each other.

He groaned audibly and Michelle, her tears almost dried upon her face, looked at him. Scowled at him. ...A scowl akin to the one that she gave when someone.. hit on Tony. The groan returned.

"What's wrong, Jack?" she asked, "I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?" She began to remember the last couple of minutes then, closed her eyes and sighed at her weakness.

"God, Jack. I'm sorry, I got make up all over your shirt... Damn it, I'm sorry that I was so unprofessional..."

She rambled for a few moments, apologizing for her unprofessional behavior and lack of control under a stressful situation. Jack didn't catch any of it, however. He was too wrapped up in the thoughts that were now swimming in his head. He felt all of the moments with Michelle and Tony clicking together, felt himself putting all the puzzle pieces together.

He'd never felt like a bigger idiot in his life.

This normally professional, calm, collected woman was acting like the most important person in her life had just been maimed, murdered and burst to a crisp.

And now he knew why. The words slipped out before he had a chance to contain them.

"You love him." He blurted. His hand flew up to his mouth and his eyes went wide in a very uncharacteristic action.

Her eyes widened slightly and she attempted to brush the accusation off.

"Of course I love him, Jack. He's my best friend." she said softly, hoping he would just drop the subject. Her avoidance of the matter, however, had the opposite effect on him. He stood up suddenly, a stubborn look on his face. He hauled her up with him as well, looked at her sternly and spoke again.

"No," he said calmly, seriously, "You're in love with him, Michelle." She gave no response, started to open her mouth in denial.

"Don't lie to me," he said in a low voice before she had a chance to get anything out.

Why in the hell did this matter so much to him?

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes again for what seemed like... God, she'd lost count of how many tears she'd cried. Anger welled up within her then, making her face red and her fingers bite into the smooth flesh of her palm, turning the skin there white.

"What in the hell is it to you, Jack? Why do you give a damn?" she yelled at him, her hair in disarray, mascara staining her cheeks, tears dancing in her eyes. She was a mess, she knew it. But she didn't need this man, Tony's friend of all people, patronizing her for what she felt for him.

He said nothing, only stared at her. He was practically fucking interrogating her! He was waiting for a response, she knew that. But she didn't and wouldn't give him the satisfaction, wouldn't allow him to embarrass her.

So she stared back, her eyes narrowed, venom practically spewing from her every pore.

'Say something, Jack.' She could practically hear her head whispering. She wanted him to give her a reason to hit him, to hurt him... to just. God... she just wanted to hate and be angry at someone right now other than herself.

Silence. Another couple of minutes passed. He stared. She stared. She felt herself cracking, felt herself become all to aware of the deafening silence that surrounded both of them, felt the tension in the room. All she could hear was her breath, deep and heavy... the pounding of her heart in her throat. Felt veins, thick and pulsating, start to throb in her head. She wanted to move her hands up to it, cradle it, to try and relieve some sort of tension that was now prominent and overwhelming in her body.

The clock on Tony's desk ticked.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

His eyes were boring into her, and still the beating of her heart, the rushing of her blood through her veins pounded in her head. Jesus... silence... she just wanted silence.

Or something deafening to block everything thing else out. She took a deep, slow breath and exhaled and suddenly felt very tired. She felt anger drain out of her quickly and felt her shoulders slump out of sheer exhaustion. Jack watched her actions with interest, then looked at his watch. He'd been up here nearly twenty minutes. When he looked away from her, she spoke softly, almost defeatedly. She looked down when speaking, couldn't meet his eyes.

"I love him. I love Tony, Jack." She looked up to meet his eyes them, a sad smile present on her features. "You have no idea..." She trailed off as her voice began to become muddled with tears once again. She cleared her throat, unwilling to become emotional in front of him again.

"I love him so much, Jack. And today, with all of this shit going on, Tony being gunned down... Jesus, it was all my fault and I don't know how to handle it. I don't know how to make it all okay." She paused .

"How do I deal when it's all my fault?" she said, her voice in almost a whisper.

His expression immediately turned to one of confusion. Her fault?

"What do you mean, Michelle?" he asked with interest.

She wouldn't tell him. "It's a long story, Jack. And I don't need, I can't afford to take any more of you time." She started to walk back over to her desk, started to sit down, but he followed, grabbing her elbow.

She looked up at him, passively, looking from her arm which was held in his hand to his face. She then turned to her computer screen.

She spoke, detatched.

"I promised someone a long time ago that I would let him go, Jack. That if they allowed him to live that I would let him go, never let my real feelings show for him. I slipped today, Jack. I slipped... and I...I was weak, I almost kissed him today right before you left for the mall. If Tony dies... It's all my fault."

Jack's mouth was agape, his expression one of anger and question. Michelle had promised some person... a terrorist...? No, no. That didn't make sense. She could practically hear the wheels begin to turn in his head.

Sensing that she was going to say nothing more, he turned to leave. A few seconds passed, and he was halfway out the door when he heard her toss the words over her shoulder.

"God, Jack." He turned to see her looking at him, an embarrassed expression on her face. "I promised God."

The answer perplexed him but he nodded to her, then went through the doors completely.

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Not twenty minutes later, he was on his way to the prison, on the phone with the President of the United States, giving him a professional farewell.

Not thirty minutes later, he was unconcious on a plane, surrounded by the Salazars.

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Back at CTU, Michelle watched in horror as Jack infiltrated the prison and took Salazar as a hostage. The horror intensified as she saw him fly away in a helicopter, unaware of their possession of Kyle Singer.

A few minutes later, Gael was found to be a traitor. It was in the interrogation room that he finally broke, telling them all of the plan that Tony, Jack, and himself had conspired. After the admission, the order came down from Division ,in the form of Chapelle.

"Almeida's out of surgery, he's gonna be okay," he told her.

She closed her eyes and braced herself against her desk in relief.

"I need him here, though," He said.

She opened her mouth to protest... he had just gotten shot for Christ Sake!

He saw what she intended to do and silenced her. "No, Michelle. He has to be here...he has to tell us what in the hell he's pulling here! I know you guys are close or whatever, so I'm sending you to go pick him up." He turned on his heel, leaving her staring after him. She went upstairs to gather her things, grabbed her keys, and left for the hospital.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- "Beautiful"

"You're beautiful, you're beautiful, you're beautiful, it's true...But it's time to face the truth, I will never be with you."-James Blunt, "You're Beautiful"

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Author's Notes: Thank you for the FANTASTIC feedback. I have unofficially dubbed this the "sexual tension" story. Anyone, let me know if it the tension gets too frustrating (as it did with myself.. I had to go write therapy fic, see "After We're Done" for reference) and I will try to alleviate it.. or write a random fic with lots of smoochies :). About this chapter: Chapelle forced Tony to come back, so even though Michelle doesn't see him fit, Chapelle doesn't care b/c he's pissed at Tony- so therefore, no conflict of interest between him and Michelle... yet . Also, I felt that as friends, even though they obviously have feelings for each other, they would be more truthful with each other and less inclined to worry about each other's feelings per say, I dunno. I hate ppl being pissed at each other forever, so we'll just see how this works out. But T/M's relationship is different than s3... more blunt, I guess. Please enjoy... and review... :)...please.

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The drive to the hospital was a long one. She didn't shed any tears, hell, she barely even moved any of the muscles in her face. Her eyes and her throat hurt, her eyes from the heavy amount of salt passed through them in a short amount of time, and her throat from screaming, sobbing... mourning. She made it to her destination in a reasonable amount of time, however extended it seemed, without making a peep. The vehicle was silent, save for the rumbling of the engine below the SUV's hood. She hadn't even bothered turning on the radio like she always did- she didn't need all the background noise when she already had the sound of resounding static throbbing in her stuffed skull.

As she pulled into the parking lot, her shoulders tensed, and the throbbing in her head got worse. She willed it away, pictured Tony's face, his beautiful face, in her head. With these images, her fatigue, her tension, it all melted away. She remembered why she was here: to pick Tony up, to see him. Tony was alive and okay. Tony was okay.

She said the words out loud to herself.

Upon her vocalization, she put her face down on the steering wheel, took a deep, soothing breath. Felt tears already welling beneath the surface. She wiped at her eyes. She couldn't afford to get emotional in front of him, he'd already been through so much. She was beside herself that they were making him come back in, not even three hours after he had been shot. Somehow, none of it seemed worth it.

She grabbed her purse, opened her door and proceeded toward the hospital. Unconsciously, her pace quickened, and by the time she got to the automatic doors that would lead her in, she was slightly winded. She paused there as they opened, smoothed her frazzled hair.. she had already checked her make up in car, had wiped away the mascara tracks and applied a fresh coat of powder. She took a deep breath, finally stepping through. She walked briskly to the nurse's station and told the attendant, a middle aged woman looking to be of Spanish origin, her name and why she was there in a business-like manner. She thought to herself that it was better to start the facade now- the bluntness and lack of emotion in her voice made her seem more in control, less fragile- a whole hell of a lot stronger than she actually felt. The nurse looked at her with a strange expression coloring her features. Michelle looked at her with a slightly sour expression, trying with earnest to exude confidence, responsibility and a business like facade.

Somehow, the nurse saw through it. With the same strange look upon her face, the nurse spoke with a slight accent.

"Honey, are you okay? You're looking a little..." She stopped to peer at Michelle who now looked flushed, almost lost, and stood up, coming around to stand in front of her. Her forehead was wet with sweat, the same kind that the palms of her hands were covered with.

"...sick." The nurse finished and reached her hand out to Michelle's forehead. She stood there, her mouth open in shock. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say.

"I'm fine," she could hear herself whispering. She felt surreal, and the thoughts that popped into her head made her uneasy, made her feel less strong, made her feel more like crumbling beneath the pressure of today's events. Lost in her thoughts, she felt herself unconsciously leaning into the nurse for support. She vaguely felt the nurse put her arm around her shoulder. Her soothing voice broke through her revere. Michelle looked at her, still slightly detached.

"Sweetheart," the nurse said, "You seem to be running a fever and you're not looking well... How bout we put you in a room, okay?" Michelle felt a jolt of panic rise within her at the nurse's words. She, he, they couldn't afford this right now.

"No!" she interjected, breaking free of the nurse's light grasp. The rise of her voice startled the older woman and Michelle immediately lowered her voice when she saw this. She cleared her throat, spoke in another tone.

"No, but thank you. I'm feeling fine" she said softly and forced herself to smile. The nurse didn't seem impressed with her pathetic and obviously forced display of teeth-baring, but sighed and nodded, going back around to her station.

"Now," she said, "Who were you looking for, Miss...?" she squinted, looking at Michelle's badge. "Dessler, is it?"

Michelle repeated the information she said earlier in a rush, her business-like demeanor lost. It didn't matter. If the nurse had seen through it, then surely Tony would. She just had to get through the next few minutes or so without revealing too much of herself, revealing too much of what she felt. The nurse, whose name she now knew was Joanna from her name tag, told her the room number. Michelle thanked the woman, began to walk off. She heard Joanna call her name, still sitting.

"Yes?" she asked, turning slightly.

Joanna regarded her with a slight smile and a look that Michelle couldn't quite decipher. "Whatever it is with him," she said, "It'll all work out, I promise you."

Michelle said nothing, only nodded her head in response. She turned, still slightly unsettled about the conversation, and walked towards Tony's room.

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She took a deep breath as she reached her destination and looked through the small window on the door. She spotted him and the deep breath was forgotten. Breath was forgotten altogether as she saw him on the bed, awake. Alive. Mechanically, she walked through the door, barely even registering that the doctor was in the room.

Tony saw her almost instantly and his face lit with a smile. It happened before she knew it, and she felt a large grin spreading across her face. She walked over to the bed, leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, took his hand in her own. She squeezed his hand tightly, and felt her lips linger slightly on his cheek. She knew it was probably inappropriate... but God... Tony was alive. The words were going through her head like a mantra.

"Hey," she heard him whisper as she backed away from him slightly, his hand still clinched in her own.

She shook her head, her thoughts still muddled and repetitive. The word were out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them, her tone fragile.

"You scared the hell out of me." she whispered, breathless.

He laughed slightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "Next time I'll take care not to get shot point blank in a major artery just for you, alright?"

His smile left her wordless, her expression one of thoughtfulness as she tried to gt the picture of him on the floor, bleeding, out of her head. They sat in silence for a few moments, neither of them sure of what to say. Tony looked to their clasped fingers, their hands that were palm to palm. He moved his fingers. Michelle went to let go of his hand all together, embarrassed by her thoughtless act of affection and desperation, but Tony held on, intertwined his fingers with her own. He looked into her eyes, willed her to say something but only saw a blush paint her cheeks. The vision of her in his office, tears welling in her eyes at the prospect of him leaving stuck with him even now, even as he was shot and desperately trying to delay the blood flow from his neck. He remembered the conversation with stunning accuracy, closed his eyes and felt every breath that came from her body, felt the warmth of her tears on his hand. He'd almost told her he loved her, almost kissed her...

The doctor's voice brought them out of their silence, and slightly scared by the sudden noise, Michelle pulled her hand out of Tony's grasp. He explained Tony's condition. Michelle nodded with understanding, gave him the number of the CTU medical ward and asked him to phone, to bring them up to speed in Tony's case.

Apparently, Tony himself hadn't been brought up to speed.

"I'm going back to CTU?" he asked, looking at her with confusion. She sighed, looked from Tony to the doctor.

"Gael was caught helping the Salazar's," she said, her face unreadable, "We tortured him, he told us about Jack... and your plan. Chapelle wants you back now." She paused, "He's not happy, Tony."

There was something else in her tone... betrayal, sadness, disappointment. She wasn't happy he'd kept it from her either.

He noticed. "Michelle..." He started. She interrupted him, looking at her watch.

"Get dressed, Tony." she said softly, turning from him. "We have to be there in fifteen minutes or Chappelle's gonna have my head." She left, giving him privacy to change. Outside the door, she leaned against the wall for support, cradling her head with her hands. She and Tony told each other everything, she could hardly comprehend that he had kept something of this magnitude from her...

She stayed in that position until she heard the poor opening behind her. She saw Tony step out, clothes in regulation CTU gear. He stepped awkwardly, obviously still slightly fazed from the wound. He saw her, and his brow wrinkled in concern. He reached out for her, pulled her into his arms.

"Hey," he said, putting his chin on top of her head, pulling his arms tightly around her. Against her better judgment, she buried her head in his chest and felt the heat radiate from his body to hers. She breathed in his scent, felt relief, relief that she had proof that he was okay, flood her system.

"Are you okay, 'Chelle?" he asked her, concern dripping from his words. He felt her nod against his chest, the sweater material making a scratching noise in his ears. He knew, at least partially what this was about.

"I'm sorry, Michelle." he whispered to her. She pulled her head off of his chest, looked at him. He noticed how frail she looked. She waited for him to continue.

"I was told to keep it a secret.. I wanted to tell you, I just... I couldn't." She nodded. He could tell that she was slightly hurt by his words, didn't quite understand. But this was Michelle. He trusted the woman, loved the woman, with his life. He only hoped that she could see that.

"It's okay, Tony." she said softly. She looked down, paused, felt his arms still encircling her. The pause lasted for a few moments. He looked away from her, still lost in thought. He was pulled back when he heard his name uttered softly. He looked to her, saw her eyes brimming with tears.

"Tony," she whispered again. She took a breath, willed the tears away. Swallowed the lump in her throat, told her that if she didn't tell him, it would be hanging over them for the rest of the day.

Her voice broke as it expelled the words.

"I thought I lost you," she said, her voice agonized, a tear spilling onto her cheek. His heart flipped then again, just like it had earlier in his office. He knew they didn't, couldn't have time for this, but he didn't care.

"Oh, Michelle," he said, and he felt her bury her head in his chest again. He stroked her hair, rested his chin on her head again, leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"But I'm still here, Chelle." he said to her. "I'm still here."

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When they arrived back at CTU, Chapelle was on Tony immediately. The plan was explained, everything fell into motion. Tony wasn't feeling well, and Michelle told Chapelle repeatedly. Chapelle only looked at her, told her that Tony had gotten himself into the mess in the first place. She checked on him repeatedly, helped him any way she could, tried to keep the fact that she loved him hidden. Paranoia was prominent within her, and she cursed herself for her earlier actions at the hospital. Nothing had happened, but she'd shown emotion and that wasn't acceptable.

Events, however, fell into place. Jack was initiated back in with the Salazars, everything seemed to be going as planned. Until a new buyer was introduced, until everything went downhill.

They watched in horror as Nina Meyers came in possession of the virus, and then were relieved as they apprehended her, with a slight lilt in their plan: she was without the virus. So, Jack took her back on the plane, took her back to CTU.

Everyone knew of Nina Meyers, knew of what she'd done, of what she'd committed against the country... against Tony. As she was brought in, Michelle watched the woman with a combination of hate and wonder. She'd done unspeakable things to Tony, to the country... and she evaded punishment often. She didn't understand her, didn't understand any of it at all actually. But she knew she'd have to try.

Chapelle walked up to her only minutes after Nina's arrival, handed her a case file as she sat at her desk.

"Michelle," he said, without looking at her, "I need you to interrogate Ms. Meyers for us."

Her head whipped around and her eyes widened. "What?" she said, "What about Tony or Jack... or someone?"

Chapelle looked at her with annoyance and little comprehension.

"Just do it," he ordered her, "Tony and Jack are busy. Just sweat her a bit, Michelle. You know what you're doing, okay?" He walked off, leaving her gaping. She sighed, flipped through the case file and made a few quick mental notes. She got a call a few moments later signaling that everything was in order, that Nina was set in Interrogation 3.

She walked toward the room, took a breath and opened the door. She was greeted with silence from the woman sitting at the table before her.

"Hello, Nina." Michelle said, tight lipped and scowling, an icy tone in her voice. "I heard that you have some information for us."

Silence.

Michelle slammed the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

Question on Finality, Chapter 5

"Quiet Violence"

"Step into my quiet violence."-Something Corporate, "Letters to Noel"

Author's Note: Beware- there's pretty strong language here. Sorry, but I felt it was necessary- they're pretty much angry. And hello to the understatement of the year...

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The sound of the door slamming resounded in the small concrete room. Michelle looked to the window where she had a feeling Chapelle and Tony were watching from the other side. Nina stared her down as she entered the room, her face emotionless. Michelle moved silently until she was behind her, placed the case file on the table and then put her hands on either side of Nina's chair, palms down. The closeness clearly made Nina uncomfortable, but she merely shifted, her expression never changed.

"Nina," Michelle said, this time softly.

Nina looked at her, resolved in her silence. The smirk on her face never faltered and her obvious cockiness ignited a rage that Michelle rarely ever felt deep in the pit of her stomach. She felt liquid fire start to race up in her veins, felt her pulse begin to quicken. The loathing that she already felt for the woman, this woman who had betrayed and wounded Tony, had betrayed the organization and country that she herself worked for and loved, doubled in mere seconds and nearly made her head spin with its intensity. She could feel the color start to rise in her cheeks as the temperature of her own body rose with it.

She slammed her hands down as hard as she could on the table, her hands moving right beside Nina's face. The velocity of her hands moving down caused Nina's hair to move, rustled her shirt. The sound of heavy force against metal echoed in the room, followed soon after by Michelle's voice, strong and booming.

"Cut the shit, Nina!" she yelled, the words coming from deep in her throat. They sounded raw, angry and violent. The woman in question looked at her this time, and Michelle saw something ignite in her eyes. For the first time, she spoke.

"Hm... quite a temper we have." she chastised, "I never figured you to have such an anger inside... Michelle is it?"

Michelle looked at her grimly, her mouth set in a firm line. She waited for Nina to continue. A few seconds of silence reigned until Nina opened her mouth again, her voice calm and collected.

"You know, _Michelle_" she said, accentuating her name, her eyebrows shooting up in amusement, " Just between us girls, you're very pretty. What are you doing down here in CTU, slaving away?" Nina looked to her ring finger, saw nothing, and looked back at Michelle.

"Oh, single are we, or at least not wedded? You're what, twenty-eight? Tsk, tsk... cutting it a little close , aren't we deary? Biological clock is just...ticking away." She made a clicking sound in the back of her throat, mimicking a clock.

Her words, however much she tried to ignore them, cut Michelle to the quick. The agent looked to the double sided glass where she knew Tony and Chappelle sat behind it. The glance was short, however, and she quickly recomposed herself, tried to take a soothing breath. Nina's word resounded in her head, however, and she as in her face before she knew it, words flowing out of her mouth that she never had the chance to review or even process.

"I'm not exactly one to fuck anything that walks just to advance myself or get money! I'm not a fucking whore, so don't chastise me for having morals or not being in a relationship because you have no concept of dignity! You're nothing but a two bit whore, Nina, spreading your legs for any willing male who has even a cent to offer you."

Her breath was heavy, her face mere inches from her captive's. Her pupils were dilated and she had the urge to hit her, to scream and kill her. She didn't know where the feelings were coming from, but they were stronger than any other emotion she had ever felt. She could feel the coldness practically oozing from the person in front of her and she hated it.

She realized that she hated this woman with everything that she possessed. The knowledge filled her mouth with a bitter taste. She didn't like the feeling, didn't like how it controlled every aspect, every fiber of her being at that moment.

Nina smirked at her, didn't seem at all fazed by her words. She sat back in her chair, tried to make herself more comfortable. She lifted her chin, an arrogant wave coming around her.

Behind the glass, Tony asked Chappelle to remove Michelle, his voice a mixture of order and underlying anxiety. He expected the negative answer that he received... and expected the question that Nina asked Michelle on the other side.

"How is Tony, by the way, Michelle?"

The words hit Michelle hard in the stomach and her head, that was hung a few seconds before processing the situation that she was in, snapped up immediately.

"Now talk about fucking someone just to get information. You know, that was actually one that I enjoyed. He was so... cute, so easily influenced. God, the things that man could do with his..."

Michelle's hand was hard against Nina's face before she even knew it. Her head flew back from the force of the blow, blood spraying out against the stark whiteness of the walls as her nose flattened against her face.

Behind the glass, Tony gasped, his eyes going wide. Chapelle, despite himself, felt his mouth turn slightly upwards in a smirk. He knew what he was getting Michelle into when he selected her to question Nina.

Michelle shook her hand out, her knuckles sore from the punch, but was immediately back in her face again practically hissing with contempt. She leaned down to whisper harshly in her ear.

"You're pathetic, Nina." she said, venom and contempt coloring every syllable. "You sneak and you take and you poison everything you touch. You sell out to the highest bidder, you love nothing. You're a black hole, Nina, and I would enjoy watching you die a slow, painful death by my hand."

She stepped back. Nina tried in vain to stop the blood flowing from her nose and diverted her eyes from Michelle's.

Michelle continued, her voice louder and once again neutral.

"Tell me where to find the virus, Nina. This is your last chance."

Nina said nothing and the arrogant look was back on her face once again. Michelle turned her back, wracked her brain as to what to say.

Michelle only had the chance to register her mistake for a few seconds before she saw Nina come out of her seat at her as fast as she could.

Nina took her by surprise, knocking her down against the wall. She felt her head hit, hard. It put stars in her vision and she felt a wave of nausea come over her. Nina's bound wrists hit hard against her stomach in and in her face and she tried in vain to block them She couldn't see, her vision blurred. She could feel liquid running down her face but she didn't its origin.

She vaguely heard the door open, heard Tony's voice and felt Nina's weight come off her. Felt herself lifted off the ground, heard Chappelle's voice ordering medical in the room. She shook her head, trying to clear her head of the haze around it. She felt someone's hand on her shoulder, felt her body being hauled up. Everything started to go into focus suddenly and she could see Nina roughly being carried off. She recognized the person who was carrying her off as Ton,y felt him coddling her. Her mind still swimming with Nina's words, visions of them together making her nauseous, she pushed him away and stumbled.

She heard him utter her name softly as she fell, trying to break her fall. Her shoulders shook as nausea overtook her and she emptied the contents of her stomach on the floor. His hands was on her back, moving in slow circles. Blood pounded rhythmically in her head, and she groaned as soon as she was finished. She rolled to her side, put her arm over her eyes in an attempt to block out the florescent lights that threatened to envelop her in their glare. With a putrid taste in her mouth,she was carried off to medical by the on site doctor, Doctor Letts.

They checked her into the infirmary immediately, treated her for a laceration to the head. She felt her face already beginning to swell, felt the needle enter into her flesh as it went in to numb for the stitches.

Thirteen stitches later, she had an ice pack on her face and peppermint gum noisily smacking around in her mouth as she tried to get the sour taste of vomit out of her mouth. The pain medicine they gave her worked well; the goofy smile on her face spread a mile when she saw him come in the room, got even more accentuated and strong whenever he put his hand on her cheek and checked her pupils. The apologies he was giving her made her heart ache, but she hoped that the medicine would take care of that as well.

Within the hour, she was back to work- pain medicine free. The words Nina had said still echoed in her head and she tried to keep herself busy. So, when Chapelle came to her with an offer for a field mission, she readily accepted- concussion and stitches be damned.

Michelle Dessler had no idea that it would be one of the most pivotal moments in her life.


	6. Chapter 6

Question of Finality

Chapter 6, "Slow Suicide"

**"Slow suicide, like it or not, it's what we do."-Jameson Parker, "Slow Suicide"**

Author's Note: Alright, ladies and gentlemen! After the last two episodes, who needs a little therapy? (**raises hand)... A**long with this story, I'm working on something else, too, which is very much therapeutic fluff. (sigh) Poor Tony and Michelle... and even EDGAR! Also, thanks for the fantastic feedback- it is greatly appreciated. If you feel generous, feel free to drop some more :)!

Chapelle's order usually would have made her a little uneasy and even now, it didn't make her feel warm and fuzzy. As he was telling her of the details, she felt her stomach turn a bit at the thought of going out into the field on today of all days. As far as she was concerned, today would go down in her book as one of the worst.

The distraction however, she reasoned, would be welcomed. Never mind if it made her feel uneasy, she could go and concentrate wholly on the efforts of a well-balanced plan, leave little thought to her emotional state or the man who held all of her in the palm of his hand. Chapelle had whispered the plan to her while they had been in a conference. The exchange hadn't been noticed by anyone and her quick departure didn't need to be explained. Michelle was often sent on tasks throughout the day- no one thought anything of it. When she reappeared, however, many people thought something of it.

Tony, and the majority of the male population of CTU thought a lot of it. When he, and the rest of them, saw Michelle Dessler walk out into the open, clad in tight black pants, a black t shirt and a matching black leather blazer, metal brief case in hand, his throat had initially gone dry- his mind had shut off. His mouth, he wasn't really proud to admit, hung open, wide and gaping. He tells himself that he had looked like a dolt- and he had. People probably would have noticed... had they not been staring at Michelle Dessler... once again, clad in tight clothes... and black leather.

He broke his gaze on her for a few seconds, looked around the building to see if anyone else was seeing what he was... to see if the day was just getting to him, or if the pain medication they had him on was causing hallucinations. He saw, however, all of the other male workers of CTU doing what they did best: ogling the girl that he had feelings for. As his head began to function again, he walked toward her, meeting her halfway with a grim look on his features. He didn't like how this was going. He quickly began to piece everything together: the outfit she was in was regulation field ops gear, and though she wore it well... and quite more attractively than most of the agents on staff, it was what it was- which led him to the assumption that she was going on a mission- a dangerous one at that.

She barely registered his presence as he walked to meet her, engulfed in the task of checking her watch and securing the case in her hand, until he said her name and gently grasped her elbow. He asked her what she was doing with a slight edge to his voice. She told him of Chapelle's plan, that she was to head up the team to track down and secure the virus at the fore mentioned location- the Chandler Plaza Hotel.

Tony's face went pale and his eyes wide at her words. With most of the building staring in on them, his hand tightened on her elbow and his voice rose a couple of notches.

"Michelle," he said, her name sound rough and edgy on his lips, "You know you're not up for that. After today, you should be in a hospital, not going out on some mission that could possibly kill you!..."

His words angered her- she reasoned with herself that his words were not right, were not ones of compassion but simply of jealousy and anger. This built the fire within her to an even greater level. Her mouth turned upward in a sarcastic smile and her own words came out harshly, laced with venom, a cold, humorless bark of laughter coming out with them.

"You're one to talk, aren't you, Tony? The white knight, always going into save the day? You were shot in the neck how many hours ago, Tony, and you're back here at work? Don't tell me what I can and can't handle, Tony. I'm a little beat up but I can and will do anything I can to do the job I'm here to do."

Her eyes stayed locked into his through out all of her speech, her gaze burning into his. He looked conflicted, the expression on his face of both anger and absolute disbelief at her words. Michelle had never talked this brazenly about him personally- they'd had their differences about work enough times when they disagreed on something tactical or of the sort, but she'd never attacked him personally.

He could feel the hurt welling inside of him due to her defensiveness, but he covered it with anger instead.

"White knight? Don't patronize me for doing my fucking job, Michelle!" he shouted at her, both of his hands now clutching at her arms roughly. His face was turning red as his temper got the better of him.

"You don't have any right to speak to me about that, I was ordered to go and I went, you would've done the same! I..." He looked down then as he realized the situation they were in. He was acting like an ass because he was worried about her. He looked around him at the people watching their display with interest.

Across from him, Michelle's chest was heaving with barely contained anger and hurt. She didn't know what she had done to deserve his sudden onslaught of anger. She had said something unnecessary to him that would warrant an apology, she knew that, but she had been bombarded by his quick anger. She regretted her words, regretted that she let him get to her on such an important day.

With a sigh, she saw him compose himself, felt him release her arms from his vice-like grip. She felt his eyes begin to search out her own, but avoided them until she couldn't pull away from him anymore. He said her name, softly but firmly, and apologized. Before she could get a word out edgewise, Chapelle's voice broke through their conversation.

"Tony," he said stalely by way of greeting, "I need you to set up surveillance and perimeters on Michelle's mission over to the Chandler Plaza Hotel."

Tony's words came out before he could stop them- he argued and looked for some way, any to keep her away from any type of situation that could have dangerous implications attached to it Michelle remained wordless throughout the exchange, instead focusing in on Tony and his obvious disapproval of her out in the field. She didn't understand what the problem was- she had experience.

The argument came to a close as Chapelle spouted off facts about her qualifications. Tony sighed deeply and scratched at his face in frustration. Chapelle walked off and commanded Michelle to get going over his shoulder. Without hesitation, Michelle went to move. Tony caught her arm, spoke to her in a gentler voice.

"You and I both know I can have someone else do this from division, Michelle. You don't have to do this." His eyes, his voice, were almost pleading.

She looked down at the ground, then back up again as she thought the situation over.

"No," she finally said, her own voice soft but steely. "It's right that it's me to go."

He stared back at her for a long moment, his brow wrinkled in an indistinguishable expression. He finally sighed and nodded his head.

"Alright," he said wearily, "But I want an update every fifteen minutes!" She nodded and turned to go. She heard her name again and turned back for a final time.

He didn't like the desperate feeling that was consuming him at the moment. He had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought about all of the things that could happen to her.

His voice was fragile as he grasped at straws.

"Be careful, sweetheart. Please.. I..." He caught and composed himself, swallowed noticeably. She nodded, wide eyed. He cut the exchange off, backing away slowly. She turned her own back and went on her way in response, her mind whirling in confusion at his words.

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She knew that going into the hotel without any haz-mat gear was probably not what Tony would have considered "careful", but she made the decision on a whim, alarmed at the prospect that the man they believed to be carrying the virus had been in the hotel for over thirty minutes. She didn't think about the consequences, only saw the people inside the building in her mind's eye.

She'd gone in, gotten a possible location on Alvers. She'd found him in the basement in a disguised, had locked him to a pipe and beaten him until he had given her the right information. She radioed to Gael, told him where the virus was located.

It was mere minutes later that she received confirmation- that the virus had been released in the ventilation system, Gael directly exposed.

The call to Tony had been difficult to say the least. She told of Alvers' capture, of their conversation, of the information that verified that were eleven other viles of the virus.

His questions alarmed her and she was silent after he asked them.

His voice came through once again on the telephone, repeating himself.

"Michelle," he said, "Why did you let Alvers outside the hotel if he might have been exposed to the virus?"

She took a deep breath, still quiet. He repeated her name again, more demanding.

"He's not outside," she said calmly.

Panic flooded him on the other end as pieces of the scenario came together.

"Are you inside!" he yelled at her, his eyes going wide at the possibility.

" I wasn't trying to be a hero, Tony." she spoke softly, her eyes closing at his tone of voice. He sighed, fear lacing its way through his blood vessels.

"What is the HELL are you doing in there?" he yelled at her again.

She closed her eyes, told him that it was the only way. He ordered her out in that moment in desperation. With a resiginated voice, she told him she could not comply. As he tried to pull rank on her, she reminded him that she was exposed, that she was the only ranking officer on site. He unwillingly agreed, told her of their progress. With very little further conversation, they disconnected. Tony hung his head in sadness for a few long moments before he got on the phone with NHS.

-

-

-

The next hours passed slowly for Michelle. The hellish slowness was peppered with slight alleviations throughout the experience- Tony's phone calls. Though they had very little personal sentiment, they relieved her from the situation slightly.

Gael started showing symptoms within the first hour they were there. Fear consumed her in that moment, and it was a rat race to see how fast they could contain all of the people in the building after a rogue employee had pulled the fire alarm in panic.

She lied to the people of the hotel, told them a story of a substance being released outside of the hotel. One of the smarter, less gullible guests had caught on quickly, tried to escape. She'd fired her gun in the air once, twice, in warning. The guest hadn't listened.

She'd shot him twice in the back after he shattered a window to the hotel. She'd gone slightly numb after, simply trying to move over to the intercom to finally tell the guests the truth of the entire situation.

She was on the phone with Tony only minutes later, had let him comfort her and tell her it was the right thing to do. She wasn't quite sure that she believed him, but held tightly onto the terrifying picture in her head of the number of people who could've died a horrible death if the man had been allowed to leave.

The terrifying picture in her head came into life only a few minutes later as guest after guest began to show symptoms. Within the next two hours, victims had been contained behind a curtain, she had been tested and sent to do mundane tasks in order for the time to pass more quickly. It didn't.

Tony's calls became more frequent with the passing time, checking on the progress made... and her condition. With every call, her voice became less guarded... she entertained the thought of telling him that she loved him every time she hung up. She dismissed the thought, however. It sounded ridiculous to even imagine the words.

When she saw Miguel die, though, saw his body, riddled with the disease, her point of view changed radically.

She called Tony in near hysterics, told him of Gael's death- told him of her plan to stop the suffering of the people. Suicide capsules. She told him that was what she would want. It was the first she had spoken of her probable death, but not the first time the thought had entered her mind.

When he called to confirm that the capsules were on their way, the thought, the notion of telling him her feelings entered into her head once again.

"Michelle, they're on their way." He said, his voice tired.

She thanked him quietly, updated him on the situation. Then, decided to actually talk to him on a personal level.

"Tony," she said, her voice small, "I know we've both been talking around this.. but if I'm infected..."

He stopped her, told her he didn't want to talk about this while there was still a chance. She placated him, told him that it was okay. There was a slight silence on the phone before she heard herself utter words that sounded foreign to her own ears.

"Tony," she whispered, " I just wanted you to know, these last three years, they've been the best of my life. Being so close to you, just... Tony..." another pause, a large intake of breath, "You'll never know how much I care about you."

A large sigh could be heard on the other end of the phone as he took a breath to steady himself.

"Michelle," he said, his voice breaking, "I should be there with you..."

"You are, Tony, you are..."

"No," he uttered, pained, "It's not the same. Michelle... what I was going to say in the office earlier.."

Another pause. Silence.

"I love you."

Silence greeted him. He grimaced, wondering if he'd misread her or gone too far.

She felt her head and her heart conflict, still so afraid that she had crossed a line, that he would be punished for her trespasses on Their agreement. But rationally, she knew she was going to die. She knew that it didn't matter, that her fate was as good as sealed.

For the first time, she spoke what she felt to the man she loved. She told him. And felt the tension that had been building for three years come off of her chest in one single, cresting wave.

"I love you, Tony. So much. I..." Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes both in relief of the tension and the finality of the statement. If her fate hadn't been sealed before, it was now.

After their admission, they were forced to once again talk about business. As they were wrapping up their conversation, she once again reminded him of the capsules. He told her he'd do everything he could for her.

With a smile in her voice and tears in her eyes, she whispered to him.

"I know you will, Tony," she said, reverence in her voice, "I know you will."

They hung up.

Tony put his head in his hands in an awkward combination of grief and joy.

Michelle went back to work, seemingly undisturbed.

That was before the results of the test came back, and her world was turned completely upside down.


End file.
